


Your Cow Hybrid Breeding Farm Experience

by Mokou



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Breeding, Breeding farm, Cow Breeding Farm, Creampie, F/F, Fucking Machines, Hucow, Hybrids, Impregnation, Interspecies Sex, Lactation, Lactation Kink, Lesbian Endgame, Lesbian Sex, M/M, Mechanical sex, Milking, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Size Kink, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Transphobia doesn't exist in this universe, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 11:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25968994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mokou/pseuds/Mokou
Summary: You are a (23, bisexual) female human college senior studying to become a veterinarian. Your decision to join the college trip to the Wonderful Milk cow hybrid farm is purely scientific of course... no human/animal hybrid kinks here. The trip does not disappoint.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 168





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got horny ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“Welcome to Wonderful Milk factory! Is this the group for our morning tour?”

Your college group along with a few straggling tourists are welcomed at the front door by a tour guide who introduces herself as Melody. She bounces your way with a smile, her long strawberry-pink hair flowing in the breeze and her breasts and ears flopping with every step.

As expected of a milk factory worker, she’s a tall, curvy cow hybrid with the biggest tits you’ve ever seen. You can’t help but stare unabashedly at her smoking hot figure. When she bends down to shake your professor’s hand, her blue open-collared shirt displays her cleavage, and you bite your lip and hold back a moan.

Your best friend notices you devouring the guide with your eyes and elbows your side. You jolt back to reality with a start and wipe the drool from your mouth.

Your name is Eve and you’re a regular human woman. You’re a college senior studying to become a veterinarian. So, of course when your Animal Hybrid History class offered an opportunity to visit the largest cow hybrid farm in the country for a research study trip you were the first to sign up.

Thousands of years ago humans had successfully bred with animals to create half-human hybrids with amazingly diverse genes. The extent of their animalistic traits differed from individual to individual, but all part-human hybrids retained the ability of human speech and consciousness. These hybrids were fully able to breed with both humans and animals, and with their rising numbers today’s society had a significant amount of hybrids living alongside humans.

Any veterinarian worth their salt these days was expected to successfully treat and operate on both hybrid and fully-animal clients. This was a potential learning experience you couldn’t miss out on!

And, in your opinion animal hybrids were a fascinating area of study anyways. Sadly though, a lot of humans didn’t share your enthusiasm, and looking around you saw you were one of the only few humans present besides your teacher.

You tear your eyes off the guide’s perky bubble-butt as she greets the other guests to meet the eyes of your best friend beside you. You return her glare with a smile in apology.

Your friend is a short, freckled brown-haired deer hybrid named Kyla. She and you were the only ones that knew of your deepest, darkest secret: you were excited to be here as well because of your… ahem... mild… hybrid fetish.

Oh, who were you kidding? You were wild for hybrids. You masturbated daily to fetish porn with humans and hybrids, and your bottom dresser drawers were stuffed full of various mammalian vibrators and dildos. It was your main fantasy since puberty to get fucked and possibly impregnated by a hybrid so that you could have adorable hybrid children.

You even had a mild thing for Kyla. You’d nursed a crush on her for almost a year until you finally broke and confessed. She was fully heterosexual and thus turned you down, but she’d been understanding and it strengthened your friendship.

You were so close that you’d even felt safe sharing your deepest desires. She didn’t approve of your hybrid fetish, but she didn’t run away screaming as you’d feared.

Kyla, annoyed at your peers’ constant ogling, claps in their faces to draw their attention away. She was likely the only college student here with purely good intentions.

“She’s not a steak, you brain dead virgins!” she huffs.

They grumble to themselves and shoot daggers at her. She wasn’t too popular already, but her disdain of hybrid sexualization made it so that you were her only human friend.

The guide chuckles. “Follow me inside.”

Melody chats with some security guards beside the entrance and the solid-iron doors open gradually with a mechanical whir.

“These babies are even bulletproof!” she boasts, hitting the steel with her palm.

You try not to focus too much on the rifles hanging on the guards’ belts as you walk past them into the facility.

A cow-hybrid receptionist takes a second from typing quickly on her computer to wave at you all. She’s a darker-skinned woman with similar ears and a big bust. On her is the same sky-blue uniform shirt and slacks as Melody, with the farm’s logo emblazoned on the front, as well as a white tie.

“No kids here, right?” Your guide checks as your group makes its way past the lobby.

Confirming that nobody in the group was underage, Melody leads everyone past a few doors. She winks and guides everyone into a spacious room so brightly lit with natural sunlight that it took a few moments for your eyes to adjust.

And it is a sight to behold.

Above you all are naked cow-hybrids on the next floor attached to milking machines.

The female hybrids are lined on the left. Their delicious moans reverberate down like music to your ears. You watch as flushed, quivering cow women had their breasts massaged and tugged on by machines that squeeze milk from them. Milk oozes and dribbles from their nipples to tubes hungrily feeding into other machines.

And if the women had cocks, they’re hooked up to another tube that drains their balls as they continuously come over and over again. You watch as a blonde cow’s cock spurts out come and fat globs of milk from her breasts splatter out and overfill numerous glasses besides her.

You feel your pussy throb, wishing you could take her place.

On your left are the male cow hybrids. Most have flat chests but their hard, aching cocks are being milked of semen by the same machinery. Long, deep groans come from their writhing bodies as they orgasm from constant stimulation.

All genders of cow hybrids are filled from behind by motor-powered dildos that fuck their asses and pussies in a stable, pounding rhythm. Slick drops down the thighs of one cow girl as she squirts, her body tensing up as she screams in pleasure.

“The ceiling above is made of one-way glass,” Melody chirps. “This means that we can see them, but the workers can’t see us! It helps to decrease their anxiety which can limit milk production in shyer individuals.”

She brings your group forwards.

“It is a common misconception that only female cows are hosted here to be milked, which couldn’t be further from the truth,” Melody starts. “Male cows can be born with fully functioning mammary glands, and the semen that female and male bovine dicks produce is of the same quality. Thus, all kinds of cow hybrid are hired.”

Kyla is furiously writing every word of hers in her notebook.

“Is the cows’ semen used in milk production?” One of your classmates asks with a grimace.

You see that some of the straight men there seemed to be ignoring the rows of male cows being milked, appearing squeamish.

‘Cowards,’ you thought. 

“Only for higher-quality specialty brands!” Melody replies. “Regular store-bought milk is one hundred-percent milk, but for taste some semen can be mixed into the product for other types of milk for a saltier, stronger taste. Some milks for baking use a higher percentage of semen per milk concentration, for example, but don’t worry about accidentally consuming some. It is always advertised on the package if a milk contains semen or not. This is legally required by law.”

The classmate and a few others look relieved at her explanation.

You watch, your pussy dribbling with slick, as a handsome, dark-haired male cow’s cock was tortuously stroked. Precum drips down as he leans back to meet the thrusts of the machine behind him mixing up his insides, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squeezed shut in bliss.

A tourist with a camera strapped to her chest lifts it to try and take a picture of the squirming hybrids above, but Melody notices and stops her, gesturing to signs plastered on the walls.

“Oh, no, sorry, no pictures are allowed here! We value the relative anonymity of our workers, so please no photos.”

The person sheepishly puts their camera down.

Kyla clicks her tongue in disapproval. She then raises her hand.

“When do these workers get breaks? Are they allowed the same rest periods as human jobs?” she asked, her pen still jotting down the scene in her notebook as she sketched it.

“Per current labor laws, milking workers are given an hour of work without interruption. They then receive a break, which should be occurring soon enough…” Melody answers.

She lifts up her arm to check her wrist-watch. Right if on cue, a buzzer sounds from above, and the groaning sounds fade as the machines taper off.

“Ah fuck, I was so close! Damn it!” A female cow shouts.

“It happened again, huh, Autumn?” Another cow teases, her tail swinging back and forth in amusement.

A few others laugh as they relax, the shift winding down.

“I swear my pump is defective, but nobody does shit when I complain,” Autumn bemoans. “I can’t cum more than ten times when I can finish myself more than twice as often at home!”

Human and hybrid attendants appear to tend to the cows. They’re promptly unlatched from the machines, standing and stretching as their filled jars are carried away and replaced with empty ones.

Other attendants come to talk to the cows. Some are led away and replaced with others. The atmosphere becomes increasingly normal as the cows form cliques together to talk. If it weren’t for their nudity, it would resemble any break room at noon.

“This is what a typical break looks like,” Melody says. “After every cow is released, personnel will obtain the product, talk to the cows to assess their needs, and then the machines are checked on and cleaned.”

They watch as janitors arrive. Some carry toolkits and kneel down to inspect the machines and test their functionality, while others with bottles of cleaning products and rags go to work sanitizing the machines of bodily fluids for the next rounds of milking.

“What about food and water? Isn’t it lunchtime?” Kyla asks.

“Everyone is given water to hydrate and regain lost fluids, and most of the workers who’ve left have gone to eat at our cafeteria. We offer complimentary full-course meals with nutritious vitamins to our staff!” Melody replies.

“What about bathroom breaks?” A tourist asks.

“Aren’t they hooked up so that they can shit while they’re fucked?” A wolf hybrid classmate of yours, one that you don’t honestly don’t like much, adds.

Kyla scoffs at his vulgarity.

“Umm, no, we offer regular bathroom facilities like most workplaces,” Melody offers.

“This isn’t a pigpen,” Kyla mutters to herself.

A pig hybrid man side-eyes her, which makes her apologize for the bad metaphor.

Melody shows the group into the next room, where above the cow hybrids are washing themselves. Some faces are familiar from the room before and look disheveled as they wash off their sweat and cum, while others are excitedly preparing themselves for their upcoming shifts.

“I think it’s time for lunch,” Melody says. She brings the group to the cafeteria and points out a coffee shop to the left for a quieter meal if the noise is too much. She also fields a few people to the public restrooms.

Your teacher instructs everyone to meet back up at the cafeteria after an hour, and you and Kyla head to the coffee shop for a meal.

Once people aren’t in earshot, Kyla teases you.

“Careful there Eve, they might need to get a mop with how hard you’re dripping onto the floors.”

“Shut up!!” You stick out your tongue at her.

You both grab sandwiches from the bar. You order a caramel cappuccino and Kyla gets a mint hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.

“You can’t deny that was hot as hell. What a way to confirm my best fantasies are true,” you whisper to her, grinning like a fool.

Kyla coughs, refusing to agree.

“This is for your career, don’t forget that,” she warns. “And the chances of us being assigned an essay about what we learned from this trip are quite high.”

That dampens your mood a bit. You sigh.

You two find an empty table to set down your backpacks and you eat. You grab your phone to play with as Kyla grabs her notebook to start outlining and continue her note-taking.

Cow hybrid workers flit in and out of the cafe area. They smile at you both, happy to see visitors, and you grin back. You even find the courage to wink at a sexy guy who meets your gaze.

“Stop that,” Kyla chides. “You’re not getting any dick or pussy from anyone here, don't get your hopes up.”

You two cringe as the wolf classmate of yours loudly flirts with the barista, a bemused blue-haired cowgirl who just asks for his order when he asks for her number.

You notice from the corner of your eye a human in a hat and hoodie who’s getting up from her table. Her wallet slides from her pocket to the floor unbeknownst to her, and you stand up to find it and then hurry to grab her arm.

“What?” she growls, catching you off guard. “I’m on break, go away.”

You’re shocked into silence for a moment before you regain your confidence and remember why you’re grabbing at her.

“You dropped this.”

You hand her back her wallet.

“Oh,” she says, her shoulders relaxing.

Kyla joins you both.

“We need to be heading back soon,” she reminds you.

“Shoot!” You check your phone, and you both have only two minutes left before the time your teacher asked everyone to meet up.

You smile at the human before jogging with Kyla to reach the cafeteria.

Your teacher greets you both. Apparently not the last to arrive, Melody and the group wait another five minutes for the rest of the guests to arrive back.

“Let’s head to the milk line now,” Melody sings.

Everyone walks through the hallways, passing a few attendants rushing with crates before being led to a room with a conveyor belt system, tall metallic drums, and heated ovens.

“This is where the milk is collected, filtered, and pasteurized!” Melody explains.

Workers in medical-like sanitary bodysuits and face-masks scurry around your group with clipboards and carts of products.

“We have a button to simulate the process, who wants to do the honors?” Melody asks, bringing everyone to a screen with a button prompt.

A turtle hybrid elderly man volunteers and presses it, and everyone watches as milk flows down from tubes into a chute. The liquid then filters through a screen before it’s collected into a heat-proof tray and baked into an oven.

“Usually the pasteurization process takes fifteen seconds to finish at 162 degrees Fahrenheit or 72 degrees Celsius. It’s then cooled down by the cold, raw milk refrigerated at the beginning of this process, and then the raw milk is warmed up by the pasteurized milk in turn!” Melody explains. “This system saves time and energy.”

She then asks everyone to follow her into another smaller room, wherein a murkier, pearl-colored liquid is being stirred and homogenized by workers.

“This is our most precious, nutritious milk! It comes solely from pregnant cows, and is hard to come by. Thus it's priced the highest,” she says.

“Does this facility house and breed pregnant cowfolk?” Kyla asks.

“We do!” Melody smiles. “Would everyone like to see our childbearing quarters?”

Many of the men and you nod furiously.

Melody brings you all to where she has to put her thumbprint on a sensor at a door hidden much deeper in the facility.

“We regretfully don’t have any pregnancies scheduled today, but we do have a few near full-term individuals staying here, so anything could happen!” Melody says.

The walls and floors here are less hospital-like and more homely. It smells sweet like honey, and soft music plays from speakers overhead. The group comes up to a pregnant mother in the hallway.

“Jennifer, how are you?” Melody asks.

Jennifer has a sizeable stomach bump, full breasts, and the dress she’s wearing doesn't hide her wide hips. Her sunflower-colored hair cascades down her shoulders.

“I’m doing fine,” she answers. “I see we’re lucky enough to have a tour come here, welcome everyone!”

You greet her with the others.

“Are tours usually not allowed here?” Kyla asks, sensing some hidden meaning to what she said.

“That’s correct,” Melody replies. “This area is highly restricted from outsiders. I should also remind everyone that assaulting any of our staff is a felony, and attacks against our pregnant workers are often… well… I wonder if I can even say it? Am I allowed to say it?”

Jennifer shrugs. “We have security cameras and people with guns. Don’t be stupid.”

“Yes, that’s exactly it,” Melody agrees. “You can get into big trouble here.”

“Big trouble,” Jennifer nods. “I’m off to continue my walk, good-bye everyone.”

The group continues into the area. Melody guides them to a few bedrooms and introduces them to a few more expecting mothers and fathers. One father is nursing a small hybrid child, and you internally squeal at the sight.

“So cute!” You say. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” he smiles, his eyes tired but proud.

Others coo over the child and offer their congratulations to those pregnant, and then you all move on. At a point you notice the lights dimming darker as you pass the living quarters of the pregnant cow hybrids and past more doors.

“We still have some time, so how about I treat you all?” Melody says with a sly tone.

She opens the door and inside are rooms sectioned off by curtains. She stops at random and pulls one away.

The group gasps in surprise.

There’s a pair of male hybrids fucking furiously behind another one-way mirror. Both are flat-chested and the cock of the male on top is hammering into the pussy boy beneath him.

“Wow! Bingo!” Melody laughs. “These are our viewing rooms meant for esteemed guests and potential investors. I’m not sure I’m supposed to be bringing regular guests here, but you’ve all been so nice… just don’t tell any of my bosses!”

On their side in front of the mirror is a chair and table with tissues.

“This is an industry secret, but male cows with pussies are some of the best breeders. A long time ago they were discarded as useless for farmers because they lacked both functioning mammaries and penises, but a report came out in 1832—”

“The James Barry report!” Kyla interrupts.

“Yes, the Barry report wherein scientific observation and testing of male childbearing cow hybrids found that the milk of pregnant male hybrids is just as rich in quality, and any children sired are just as healthy as female hybrids’. It shocked the medical world, but now it just seems like common sense.”

“And isn’t there evidence to suggest male mammary milk is sometimes higher in quality?” A voice from behind them pipes up.

It’s a cow hybrid guard with short light pink hair.

“Kurt!” Melody gasps. “How are you?”

“Sneaking into the breeding section with outsiders. Tsk, tsk. You’re just inviting a scandal,” Kurt replies.

“A scandal?” You ask, your stomach dropping.

“There was an incident where footage of... activities inside this facility a few years ago incited public outcry from anti-hybrid groups,” Kurt explains.

“Many people were fired,” Melody adds, her face somber. 

Her happy mask slips back on after a second.

“Many more demoted,” Kurt says.

Melody sighs. “It was… a difficult situation. Nobody is coerced to work here, everyone is paid well, I don’t understand the controversy? As a cow hybrid, we expect to raise young and produce milk, why is it wrong for us to have a clean, safe, and protected place to do so?”

“It is a complicated issue,” Kyla frowns. “As a deer hybrid, we also need safe places to bear young and we can’t fulfill many strength-based jobs that bigger hybrids can apply for, which limits our employment opportunities.”

Kurt and Melody, along with some other hybrids nod in agreement. Other hybrids shift from foot to foot, seemingly uncomfortable. As a human, you stay silent.

“It was lucky that you ran into me,” Kurt says. “I won’t say anything, but you need to get clearance in the future before attempting to bring visitors here, Melody.”

“I know, I know. Thanks, brother,” Melody replies.

Melody hurriedly rushes everyone back to the main foyer. She counts the heads and breathes in relief when nobody is missing. She adjourns everyone to another hour break before the tour finishes.

“I have to pee,” you tell Kyla.

“Same,” she says.

You two head to the female bathrooms. There’s a line out of the door, and you two groan.

“Is someone giving birth in there?” A giraffe hybrid in front of you complains.

“Did you know that’s actually happened before?” A human by her gossips.

“No way!!”

“Yeah! The hormones in the air have forced a few pregnant folks’ waters to break early!”

“There’s no way!” Another hybrid gasps.

“I heard that’s why they ask if you’re expecting a child in the questionnaire before you arrive…”

You and Kyla tune out the gossiping ladies.

“Is there another bathroom somewhere?” you moan, twisting your legs together.

“Maybe?” Kyla says back.

You two break from your spots in line.

Kyla points you towards the second floor. A few women seem to think about following you, but with a glance at the line continuing to grow behind them, they stay put.

You both head upstairs.

“If there’s a second floor restroom it’s likely less busy than the first floor’s,” Kyla explains.

“Ooh! You’re so smart!” You reply. “I knew I befriended you for a reason.”

She rolls her eyes.

You two keep walking when you see a familiar figure in the hallway. It’s the human who dropped her wallet in the cafe, and you rush to follow her. 

“???” Kyla matches your pace.

The woman heads into a bathroom and your eyes glint at your hidden find. You both head inside, pass the urinals, and sit down to finally relieve yourselves.

After you finish your business, you bump into the hoodie-wearing woman. Before you can apologize, she yells at you.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to be in here!”

She grabs you and tries to push you out the door. Kyla bursts from the stall next to you to see what’s happening. 

“Get off of her!” she screams, jumping in to defend you.

The two fight as you try and step away.

“Can’t I at least wash my hands first?” You ask.

You then proceed to walk to the sinks to wash your hands. Both women stare at you, the stranger in shock.

“This isn’t a public bathroom,” she says, composing herself. “It’s off-limits.”

“Oh, sorry. We didn’t realize,” you reply. “Sorry if we inconvenienced you, we’ll leave now.”

Kyla, on the other hand, sneers at her.

“There’s no sign saying it’s an employee bathroom, so don’t lie to us!”

The woman doesn’t know how to reply, so she just turns away to wash up herself.

With a hand on your friend’s shoulder, you move her outside.

“What a jerk!” Kyla looks around to check out the door.

“No sign in sight! Dumb bitch,” she swears.

“Her tits were big enough for her to be an employee,” you shrug, wanting to drop the matter. 

Plus, her eyeliner and voice were kinda hot.

You make it down to rejoin the group. The final leg of the tour brings everyone to check out the facilities’ cheese production team and then the bakery. Everyone gets a sample of cheesecake and the tour ends at the Wonderful Milk gift shop.

Both you and Kyla walk into the shop, her wanting to find a history book she can reference for her thesis, and you to find anything for you and your family. 

You try on a few cow-themed T-shirts when you find one with the slogan “HEAVY MILKERS” on the front. You break down laugh-crying when you walk out of the changing room and see Kyla’s face when she reads the words on your boobs.

You head to the register with your hundreds of dollars of merchandise to find a familiar face.

The cashier is the woman from before.

You awkwardly stare at each other before you set down your things. She scans them slowly.

On the HEAVY MILKERS t-shirt you catch her glancing at your breasts, and then her eyes travel up to your face.

There’s an electric moment when your eyes meet. She’s the first one to look back down.

Her hand pauses on scanning your shirt before she pretends to scan the shirt with a smile, making a “beep” noise out of the side of her mouth. You hold back a laugh and she glances back up at you again.

Now more comfortably you stand and wait as she totals up your purchase and bags it up. The shirt was a good fifty dollars off your final balance, and you hesitate before gratefully handing over your credit card.

Her hand fits over yours as she grabs it from you. Her gaze is surprisingly tender until she catches something behind you.

You turn to see Kyla approaching with a stack of books. She stops and regards the situation.

The cashier takes your card and swipes it through the reader, giving you the receipt and thanking you for coming.

Kyla steps over and you wait as her books are scanned quickly and bagged up with no comment. She pays in cash and you two leave.

Outside the shop, you release a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

“She really did work here,” Kyla comments.

You don’t know why, but you wanted to laugh and sob at the same time.

You meet up with the rest of your college group. Your teacher has to corral some of the men back who want to stay a few more minutes to observe the milking room, leaving you and Kyla sitting at a bench in the lobby.

You don’t know why, but there’s a knot in your stomach.

“Stop sighing,” Kyla suddenly says.

You realize you were letting out a sigh and turn to her.

“You’ve been sighing like a puppy dog the last ten minutes,” she tells you. “Just go back in there and give her your phone number already.”

“You’re right. Be right back,” you reply, already ripping out your backpack to find a pen and paper.

You run to the gift shop as fast as your non-Cheetah legs will carry you, your lungs straining.

You turn towards the cash register to find a cow hybrid male working there.

“Hi, welcome! Let me know if you’re looking for anything,” he greets you.

You deflate like a balloon. Your feet that were previously flying across the floor now walked zombie-like out the door.

“Miss?” he asks.

Your face must have concerned him.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m all right.” You pull yourself together and show the piece of paper with your number scrawled on it to him.

He looks at it puzzledly and then back up at your face.

“I’m gay,” he bursts out.

“Good for you,” you reply.

The two of you stand in silence before you realize you should tell him why you’re handing it to him.

“Your girl coworker who was here before, can you give this to her?” you ask.

His pained face morphs into a relieved smile and he nods.

“You mean Historia? She’s just gone to the bathroom if you want to find her,” he replies.

You take back your number and thank him.

Your legs on pure instinct lead you to the second floor. You’re back to the same bathroom you bumped into her at.

You push open the door. Nobody is inside at first glance, but you can hear someone breathing. You check the stalls to find the one on the far end is closed.

Your hand reaches up to knock on it when you hear a gasp. Thinking you were caught, you step back. It’s then when the breathing you hear seems to be too loud to be normal.

Not wanting to be a creep, but not wanting someone else to come in and find you, you stand there in limbo. It takes a surge of guts for you to finally just try and open the closed stall door.

And it swings open.

You stand there. 

Historia is sitting on the toilet seat, her hat off revealing cow ears and her long, throbbing, messy cock grasped in her hands. Her hoodie is open to reveal her two E-cup breasts and her purple bra is a similar shade to her hair.

Her wide eyes meet yours.

You take a step forward and hold out your hand with the scrap of paper on it.

She looks down at it like it’ll bite her.

“It’s my number,” you offer unhelpfully.

She doesn’t move to take it.

“I…” she trails off.

“Sorry to bother you,” you repeat and shut the door.

You stand outside the stall. The door of the bathroom starts to open, and you turn in disbelief at your luck when a hand grabs you back inside the stall.

Historia’s cock brushes your thigh as you’re pressed to her.

Two women are in a heated conversation as they enter the restroom.

“—so I asked why she cut my hours and she dared to say that my milk production was lower than last month’s!”

“Report her ass to HR, that’s discrimination!”

The stall door beside them was entered and they waited with bated breaths as the two women peed and left.

“Of course I’m not taking that kind of shit! Maybe I’ll ask to get transferred to another department.”

“Don’t sign up for the breeding program. You don’t need another kid and the accommodations are lackluster from what my cousin said.”

“Eh, I had my eldest in a truck on the side of the road in a winter storm— I think I could handle it!”

The door shutting cut off their laughter.

You couldn’t help but look down. Her cock was still rock-hard.

“I need to get back to work,” she says.

Your cunt clenched around nothing as it compared it to your biggest dildo.

“I need to get back to school,” you reply.

But betraying your words, you kick your pants and underwear to the ground and bend over.

There’s a tense moment before you look back to see her mouth gaping open. There’s a line of precum dangling down the head of her penis, and you swallow.

She gulps as well and steps forwards, placing her hands on your hips.

You grind your pussy back to her cock and she moans. You know she hadn’t missed how dripping wet you were.

“You sure?” she whispers.

You nod and grind against her again.

The glans of her penis lines up with your slit and drags at it, making your whole body shiver in anticipation. The tip of it slides against your clit and you whimper.

“I don’t have a condom with me,” she mumbles.

Your reply is moving your hips back to spear yourself on her flesh.

You lose it as its girth widens you open in a way that you want to experience forever. The silicon of dildos and vibes doesn’t compare to the feeling of real flesh scraping at your insides. 

She breathes out a small “fuck!” and stills, her grip on your hips tightening.

Horny and impatient, you push your ass further towards her. The length of her cock hits your g-spot and has you shuddering in pleasure, your knees almost giving up.

To your astonishment, she pulls you up from falling. She then detaches you from the cold bathroom wall, and, with a strength you don’t have, holds you up while keeping you still impaled on her cock.

It’s a sight so hot to you that you feel your walls clenching around her. She chokes out a low moan, throwing her head back.

Your cunt gets accustomed to its intruding friend and you throw your arms around her neck. She’s now in control of the pace, and you vibrate in excitement.

You’re expecting her to pull out and begin thrusting when she continues to thrust deeper inside of you. Your eyes bulge out, not expecting her cock to be so long, and your ass fails to hit her hips as she sinks deeper and deeper inside you.

You’re in heaven and your cunt welcomes her dick like a dehydrated man to a glass of water. The sounds of your slick walls enveloping her make your ears burn, and she mirrors your embarrassment with a shy glance at your expression.

She stops, fully seated at last. She seems to want your input, and you give it to her by kissing her and then by biting at her neck.

“Fuck me already,” you moan.

Her eyelashes flutter and she takes a breath in before she moves you off of her cock and then back down. You hiss out your teeth at the overwhelming sensation of being fucked so deeply.

The head of her cock pokes at the front of your stomach as she seats herself back into you and you need to come so bad that you want to sob, and your whines trigger her fucking into you faster and faster until your feet are back on the floor and you’re dangling like a piece of meat as she takes your sopping wet cunt and hits your g-spot like she needs your moans to live.

You feel yourself quickly getting close to the peak as she fucks you mercilessly. You don’t even need to rub at your clit with the way her cockhead massages your insides and her hands on your breasts tug at your nipples in ways that send electric shocks straight right down to your cunt.

“I’m gonna cum!!” you wail, your legs completely giving up as your brain and hole drown in the pleasure.

If you didn’t think it was possible, you’d think that her cock got even harder as she fucked your cunt with thrusts that left you yelling. The white-hot pleasure bursts into a firework-intense orgasm that lasts almost half a minute. You scream as she fucks you through it, your pussy gripping her and trying to reach her even deeper as you spasm in her arms.

You have another orgasm a few minutes later as her cock drives you into a state you’d never found yourself reaching before, so wet and pliant and desperate for cock that you don’t think you could ever return back to normal. Her dick fits your hole and should never leave your body with how well it completes you, you think deliriously as you’re pounded to oblivion and reach another extended orgasm.

Your cum is so far down your legs that you’re worried about her slipping in it when she finally squeals that she’s close. You turn back to see the fiery embers flickering in her eyes as she bites her lips and pierces into your cunt over and over. Her brows furrow as she desperately tries to hold back her orgasm.

“I’m going to cum!!” she yells.

Out of your orgasm and back to a satisfied state, you smile.

“Go ahead,” you say.

“Where??” she asks, frantic. 

She can’t help but keep pounding you at a bruising pace, but your teasing smile doesn’t answer her question, and her frustrated “fuck!” makes your pussy throb again.

To your horror, she pulls out and tries to come on your back. Not having that, you turn and lock your arms and legs around her body.

“Wait, no?!” she groans.

“Inside,” you reply.

Her conflicted expression is part horny and part horrified as she tries again to squirm away, but she’s getting exhausted at this point, so your legs hold her steady as she gasps, twists, and reaches her limit.

Balls-deep inside you her cock throbs and explodes semen into your womb. Her legs shake as she swears, now fucking deeper to try and fit every last inch inside your cunt to impregnate you with her cum.

Her orgasm lasts longer than she’s used to, because she whines and looks down to your stomach bloated a bit from the volume of her semen. And her cock isn’t even finished as it deposits another hot load inside you.

You wink.

Getting knocked up by a hybrid? Literally one of your biggest fantasies.

She gasps from the aftershocks of her orgasm and you hold her tight to your body and kiss her forehead, cheeks, and even tongue her breasts until she finally finishes orgasming and her cock softens.

You want to keep it inside you forever, but you keep your whining to yourself as the feeling of cum rushing outside your hole makes you both horny and disappointed that you didn’t have something to plug yourself with.

“Wow,” she gasps out.

She helps you to wipe as much cum off your legs as possible with toilet paper. A check of your phone sees that you’ve missed a few texts and calls from Kyla, so you text her that you’ll be down in a minute so she won’t stress out so hard she calls the police and reports you missing.

The slip of paper with your number flies out of your shorts as you put them back on. You stuff it in Historia’s bra.

“Call me later, I gotta get back,” you say, getting yourself ready.

You’re almost to the door when you check yourself in the mirror, fix your hair, and then rush back to plant a kiss on Historia’s lips as she shyly puts herself back together.

“Okay, bye!” you yell as you run back out and back to the lobby.

Kyla is standing there on the phone when she spots you and runs over to punch your arm.

“Did you get lost?? The bus has been here for over fifteen minutes already! The teacher and I were having a hernia about you!! What if you’d been kidnapped??!” she yells, grabbing you by your shirt.

You’re still in the post-orgasm haze where everything is great so you reply that you’re sorry.

“Let’s go home, sorry everyone!” you sheepishly grin.

Kyla shakes her head but lets you go, pushing your backpack at you.

You head back to school with the evidence of your encounter still on your legs, and the journey back is tortuous and you feel so tired that you want to head back to bed, but you stay awake checking your phone and seeing if she’d texted you back.

She hadn’t yet. Your group is dropped off back at college, the boys lamenting that they didn’t get a hook-up like they’d hoped, and you and Kyla parting ways to head home.

Your drive home was spent listening for the vibration of your phone. On the freeway it finally buzzed, but like the seasoned driver you were, you didn’t want to take your eyes off the road. You arrived home and parked at your house, opening your phone like a madman.

“Hi”

“Is this the right number?? Lol”

“I don’t even know your name”

These three texts made your heart leap with joy and you headed to your room past your roommates cooking in the kitchen. You sit down on your bed and then smush a pillow to your face to scream with joy, kicking your feet up like a teenager.

You reach blindly for your phone and send off your first text back.

“It’s Eve!! Hi hi omg”

“Your cock was amazing I miss it already also are you single”

“Wait I should’ve asked that first I hope you are if not that would suck since then like we’d fucked and all”

She texts you back within seconds.

“I’m single dw”

“O_O”

You laugh and ask her out for a date. You learn that she goes to a college just a few towns over, and she then asks:

“If u get pregnant im so sorry are u on birth control???”

You reply:

“It’s fine I can get an abortion I’m not worried about it idc (shrug emoji) btw I do want kids someday if that’s a rulebreaker”

It takes a few minutes for her reply.

In the meantime, you’re still wet. You grab your biggest dildo from your collection and take off your sweaty clothes.

“It’s OK also I’ll pay for it if it happens OK”

“Sounds good (winky face)” You reply back.

You get to work on fucking your cunt as you then ask her some of her kinks, and with a little nudging you both have a titilating conversation that lasts deep into the night. You finally can’t keep your eyes open when you send off a good-night text and throw your dildo onto the floor, deciding to clean it tomorrow.

“Good night baby<3” She sends.

You snuggle your phone as you fall asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Added another chapter from Kyla's POV. ^.^  
> Thank you for the comments, kudos, and hits! <3

The guards at the door read your passport, verify your documents, and you’re given a lanyard and instructions where to go.

You’d wrote down your preferences as being a heterosexual cowgirl woman who’s willing to get milked and impregnated to bypass the lengthy wait for an interview. While the screening process wasn’t any less rigorous, there was always a demand for more milk producers, and you’d gotten a fast-pass ticket to the front door in less than a week.

Your name is Saffron and you’re a common farm girl half-cow hybrid. 

At least, that’s who you’re currently pretending to be.

The photoshopped birth certificate you’d brought to their hiring talent agency originally lists you as Kyla. You're a white-tailed deer with white spots on the brown fur along your back, shoulders, neck, and legs.

Instead, the skin and hairs along your body were painstakingly painted to hide your identity, and your ears have been altered with make-up as well. You keep your hair down to your shoulders, but for this occasion you’d chopped it off to better hide it underneath a blond wig. Your eyes underneath your blue contacts were naturally olive-hazel.

You were looking at jail time if you were caught. A ten-year sentence for forging official documents, five years for trespassing, and who knows how long this factory’s lawyers could pin you for if they found out you’d deceived your way to snagging a position here.

But, hey, who said journalism was a safe career choice?

Eve had warned you about doing this, pleading with you to simply find some ex-employees to interview for your thesis on the working conditions of milking farms, but you’d been adamant on getting an edge. Any rookie could locate some disgruntled former workers, but you wanted information straight from the source. 

Straight from the cow’s teat, as you will.

So you’d engineered your way here to see a side of the factory that the public could never. This would mean that you’d never be able to show your face here again, but you were expecting this corporation to go down in flames once you’d found your scoop anyway.

The receptionist greets you as you approach her. You tell her your fake name with a rehearsed nonchalance and then give your employee number. Her system authenticates you and she picks up the phone to call for someone who’s available to show you around the facility.

A cow hybrid male comes into the room.

“Hello, is this Saffron? It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says, shaking your hand. “You can call me Felix.”

He’s a rather delicate-looking guy with small breasts. Yours are bigger, but only slightly. You’d padded your bra quite a bit, but naturally deerfolk didn’t run too voluptuous as cowfolk.

“It’s great to meet you as well,” you smile.

Felix brings you upstairs to a small room with a table and two chairs.

“This is our pre-employment interview section,” he explains, sitting and gesturing for you to do the same.

You’re handed a cup of water and a bagel with jam. You begin eating and silently press the button to the tape recorder sewn into your bra.

“It is our utmost priority not to sugarcoat or mislead you about our work. If at any time you believe yourself not fit for the position, please let me know,” he says.

It’s exactly your plan to say just that at the end of this tour—to announce you’re uncomfortable and will be turning down this job. You nod, not betraying your thoughts.

He takes out copies of your paperwork from a folder to read them over with you.

“It says here that you’re interested in the breeding program, yes?” he remarks.

You blush without meaning to. “I am.”

He smiles at your redness.

“It’s a tough job, but the salary you’d earn well makes up for the pains,” he says. “Even as a heterosexual you’re not limited in the options of partners.”

“You get to choose your breeding mate?” you ask.

You’d heard rumors of some less-reputable factories breeding their workers indiscriminately. There were reports of assault, coercion, and even child trafficking charges as allegedly some offspring were sold under the table to families who wanted to dodge the formal adoption process’ substantial fines and regulations.

“Absolutely,” he replies. “Both or all partners must consent both verbally and on paper. We also require additional medical visits before procreation can be allowed. Those kinda suck, oh, especially if you’re sensitive to needles like I am, and really the amount of blood tests and shots they give you is insane, but… I’m getting off topic here, where was I?”  
“The breeding program?” you offer.

“Yes, well, it’s an option we have open for you. Fertility drugs are injected to promote conception in the days beforehand, and gestation takes about the time period of a human pregnancy. While pregnant you’d be cared for by our medical specialists and limited to milkings only once per week. You’re able to sire five children, one per two years, before you’d be assessed if you’re able to continue. If not, you’d be reassigned to another position or given a sizable life-package to retire.”

“What if, for example, I’d only birthed two kids? Am I still eligible to retire with a severance package?” you ask.

“Of course,” he replies. “It would be a bit smaller, but our company doesn’t take the sacrifices of our breeding workers for granted. A good friend of mine resigned five years back and still has enough in his savings to ensure a good education for his kids without having to work another job for the rest of his life.”

You whistle. What a deal non-cow hybrids were missing out on.

“That’s good to know,” you say.

“And you don’t have to commit to the breeding program,” he assures you, closing your folder and standing. “I make it sound like a huge deal, but I find that being transparent with our potential recruits helps us to weed out those who wouldn’t be suited for child-bearing.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reply.

Felix leads you into the milking room.

You’d seen it before, but you pretend like you’re impressed.

“I didn’t know that this kind of machinery existed,” you lie, covering your mouth.

Felix laughs. “It’s not like we’re a family farm. Milking everyone by hand would be a nightmare at our size!”

The hybrids above you gasp and moan. You watch many of them orgasm as the two of you walk forwards

“Are you willing to try out one of our machines?” he asks. “Just for practice?”

You don’t need to act out your shock as he leads you to a small room with a similar machine on the floor. Getting a closer look at it makes your cheeks burn.

“You aren’t obligated to, by the way. I’ll show you how it operates before you decide,” Felix says.

He goes and sits on the machine, explaining its features.

“The seat of the machine adjusts to your preferred position.”

He rotates the seat with a click down and lays on his front and then his back.

“The penetration apparatus here is primed to lubricate any entrance with this nozzle. Our lube is unscented, vegan, and hypoallergenic with no strong taste or smell. We tune the speed of the machine’s thrusts and the size, shape, and feel of its end to each employee’s tastes. It usually takes a few rounds of experimentation for people to customize their final personalized machine.”

Felix unsheathes the dildo by pressing down a lever. He demonstrates replacing the silicon with other models, some of which are unusual for your tastes. Most have flared bases, a few are tentacle-shaped and move in unpredictable patterns, and many of them would break your vagina if you’d tried them.

You clear your throat.

“How does the milking machine work?”

Felix grins at the color of your face at a horse-sized cock and stops teasing you with more models; instead, he wheels over another machine with familiar breast pumps.

“This is our standard model. It also comes with different settings in intensity.”

He attaches them to his breasts over his clothes. You stop yourself from taking a breath in when he sets the machine on and it lightly squeezes around his chest, the cups fitting around his nipples which now stand to attention behind his shirt.

Even though he’s purely simulating this all for you, you can’t deny your cunt throbbing once or twice.

“I can’t lie that it takes a little while to get used to being milked. It’s a weird feeling that’s hard to explain. It’s easy to get overstimulated,” he laughs. “Don’t go too fast in your practice sessions. The tugging should never be painful, and you will feel your breasts responding to the sensations by slowly filling with milk.”

You take a sip of water to quench how quickly your throat had become dry.  
“Our milkers usually go up a breast size or two once our bodies have been prepared. We have similar builds, right? If you’re like me, you’ll grow quite a lot. I was completely flat-chested before this if you can even believe it.”

Felix jumps a bit to show off his breasts. As a heterosexual woman you’d never been turned on by them on women, but on a guy you can’t lie that it excites you. You have to make yourself look away from the stiff peaks of his nipples.

“Since you have a vagina I don’t have to show you how to work the penis-milking machine, so we can skip that. Do you have any other questions?”

The many questions you’d brainstormed before this occasion have all flown your mind in the moment.

“How long does it usually take for milk to come out of your breasts?” you ask instead.

“It takes at least a few days before lactation occurs,” he answers. “Sometimes a few weeks, and in the rare instance it won’t start until someone is pregnant. Everybody is different.”

Felix stands up, detaching the pumps from his chest.

“Do you want to try it out?” he asks.

A strange sensation of feeling all the blood in your breasts rushing greets you. Your mouth is dry again when you reason to yourself you need all of the material you can get. 

First-hand experience is why you’re here in the first place, so you nod and sit down on the fucking machine.

Felix approaches the floating milk pumps and takes them in his hands.

“Let me know if it gets uncomfortable or you need to stop,” he says. “Would you like to lift up your shirt?”

You almost comply, your hands lifting up the bottom of your shirt hem, before you remember the padding in your bra.

Felix looks down at you with an expression you can’t place. You’re both silent for a moment before he coughs.

“If you, um… padded your brassiere… know that’s not too uncommon for interviewees. I’ve seen it quite a few times…”

One part of your disguise exposed, you try not to panic.

You have an excuse on the tip of your tongue before he cuts you off. “I don’t judge anyone! It’s a normal thing to be judged for your body, and this career needs those with big breasts. We don’t discriminate, and almost always your body will adapt and grow, so there’s no concern or judgement here.”

He seems scared of offending you, his eyes open and unguarded, scanning your face. You find yourself dropping your guard as well.

“They’re too lumpy, huh?” you joke, cracking a smile.

Relieved, you both laugh. 

You shrug off your shirt and reach behind you to unclasp your bra. You take the padding out and hold it in your hands before he offers you a bag to take them back home in.

Your small breasts freed to the chillier air, you shiver a bit. He adjusts the chair to a better position for your back before attaching the pumps to your breasts.

He’s so close that you can smell him, and you’re still like a statue trying not to breathe in what is functionally the scent of his shampoo. It reminds you of a beach, maybe he’s into soft outdoorsy smells like you?

“We’re also testing headphones for our workers to listen some erotic sounds during the milking process. Auditory stimulation is a benefit for me personally, but we’re still collecting the data,” Felix says, his fingers lightly gripping your breasts to position the pumps into place.

Your nipples are hard already from the air. His practiced hands don’t brush against them to your delight, not trusting if you’d be able to hold back a whimper.

“I’m going to start the machine now,” he announces.

He presses the button and it’s not a few seconds before you feel the unfamiliar sensation of your breasts being massaged. Your tits are gradually pulled and then let go in a steady cycle.

“How does it feel?” he asks.

You’re speechless. You swallow and reply that it’s fine, you’re doing fine.

Out of the corner of your eye you glimpse the dildo. You chide yourself and turn away.

Your tits are played with by the machinery for a few minutes. You feel yourself getting wetter and yell at yourself for not putting a pad in your underwear. 

You feel like a pervert as you get aroused under a stranger’s gaze. You don’t want to be so turned on, but your breasts were more sensitive than you’d figured, and having your fingers on your breasts as you jerked off didn’t compare to them being pulled gently by a machine.

You can’t look to see Felix, instead shutting your eyes. Your thighs unconsciously press together. The slick of your cunt is now for sure staining the seat.

The machine picks up after a certain time period passes, and the suction to your breasts grows stronger. The gossamer thread of pleasure that passed from your tits to your uterus spasmed in delight.

“Is it too much?” Felix asks, his fingers hovering over the off switch.

“No!” you say a bit too forcefully.

He smirks. You flush as the suckling of your breasts continues.

Felix grabs a chair from an adjourning closet and sits down.

“I usually extend the first trial to however long any hiree wants it, so don’t worry,” he explains. “Many like you have taken an immediate liking to it.”

You can’t help yourself; you look down at his crotch. Your eyes are scanning for any hint of bulge, or especially for a hard-on pitching the front, but there’s nothing. It’s a bit disappointing but you understand this is his job.

“So this is done to you every day for multiple hours?” you ask.

“Yep,” he nods.

‘What a dream job,’ you think to yourself.

Being paid to experience this ecstasy is something that you’d happily sign your soul over right now for.

Your breasts were now being pumped energetically by the machine beside you. Your breaths were shaky and your toes curled, and you recognized you were getting too close to cumming for your comfort.

“I think I’m done now,” you say.  
Felix sits up and goes to reach for the pumps when his hand stills on your chest. Following his gaze, you notice the drips of white on your nipples.

The pump squeezes out lines of milk from your breasts as you both observe in shock. 

The delayed feeling of milk squirting from your mammaries hits your brain in a wave of euphoria. You cross your legs as the sight and grip the seat, drenching the floor and Felix’s pants as you orgasm.

Felix’s eyebrows are past his forehead. His face is red and he steps forwards to unclasp the pumps from your breasts.

The aftershocks of your orgasm have your cunt clenching. The shame and embarrassment settles into your skin like a bucket of cold water thrown across you, and you feel tears prickling at your eyes.

“That was amazing!” Felix shouts, grabbing your attention.

“I’ve never seen someone’s body gravitate so quickly towards being milked like that!”

He runs into the closet to grab a clean washcloth and then bends down to pick up your discarded bra and shirt.

“We’ll get you a fresh pair of underwear and a replacement skirt, give me a second,” he says.

Felix turns around while you dress yourself, making a call.

“I have a potential employee that produced milk on her first try with the breast pumps!”

You hear him boast about you to someone on the other end.

Now somewhat decent, you stand up. Your sneaker loses grip in your mess on the floor, and you trip. 

Felix catches you before you hit the ground. Your knee pressed to his crotch feels wetness, and your eyes widen. He helps you back up.

“If you’re still interested in this position, I’ve put a good word to my boss,” he tells you.

A woman enters the room with a folded skirt and pair of underwear. You accept the garments gratefully, and the two workers leave you alone in the room so you can swap to clean clothes.

You have your panties on the floor when you catch sight of the dildo pointing towards you on the fucking machine. It’s so tempting to just sink yourself into it, but you have more restraint than someone like Eve, so you pull your new clothes on.

Felix emerges after you knock on the door to announce you’re ready. He hands your soiled clothes to the lady and she bows and takes her leave. 

You and Felix continue the tour.

“On the right is our public bathrooms. The employee ones are upstairs next to our break room. There are fire exits here and down there. Our basement over there is locked unless it needs to be cleaned.”

“What’s in the basement?” you ask, marking its location in your mind for later.

“That’s where we keep our prisoners,” he remarks.

You whirl to face him. His face is neutral yet his eyes are fixed on yours.

You hope your recorder has caught that!

“Just kidding!” he blurts out. “That’s what we say to haze our newer employees.”

Still suspicious, you follow him to the door. It opens with a creak to darkness.

You follow him downstairs to find an entire room filled with cheese. Rows upon rows of cheese. There are yellow kinds, white kinds, orange kinds, ones with holes, marbled ones, and so much cheese.

“It’s cheese,” you say.

He nods.

“Our cheese cellar! I’ll get you a sample.”

Felix heads to a milky-white cheese with a pungent odor.

“This batch is too deformed to be sold, but we’ll still donate it once it’s done maturing. Have a bite.”

He grabs a spade-like tool and cuts you both a slice.

You nibble on it and it’s surprisingly not bad. It seems perfect for a sandwich— maybe one with mustard and some red meat on it. Yes, you’re sure a nice roast beef sandwich would suit this kind perfectly.

Felix seems pleased as you finish it off.

“Let’s go back upstairs.”

You’re guided to the factory’s cafeteria and then to its coffee shop. Felix hands you a meal voucher and takes his leave.

“I’m only scheduled this morning so another worker named Harris will continue to show you around, okay? It was lovely to meet you. Hopefully you’ll choose to stay!”

He bids you farewell with a handshake.

Your stomach growling, you take the voucher to the line and stand with many other workers. As a fresh face you gather a few looks, but you’re left alone to grab an assortment of fruit.

You were making yourself a plate of salad when someone bumps into you.

“I’m sorry my dear, excuse me!” A woman cries.

She’s tall and chubby with striking green eyes.

“My tuckus is too big for my own good sometimes,” she laments.

She steps away and you see for yourself the absolute size of her behind. It’s like two basketballs strapped underneath her pants.

“Sorry again,” she apologizes, handing you a fork and walking to the tables.

You finish making your plate and head to the coffee shop to grab some caffeine. The barista is the blue-haired woman you ordered from before, and that makes you hesitate.

‘Do you want to take the risk of being recognized?’ you ask yourself.

The barista’s eyes sweep over yours as you stand there frozen. You realize you’re being conspicuous and join the line.

She doesn’t appear to recognize you as you order something different. You sit down with your espresso and take out your phone.

There’s a text from Eve asking if you’re okay. You reply that you’re fine.

“How do I know this is really you?? What if this is a police guy??” she texts back.

“its me. here ill say something only you would recognize: your girlfriend and you are the worst couple ever”

“That’s not very nice :/ And I still don’t believe you,” she replies.

“i knew you both fucked on my couch while we watched The Hobbit last week”

“Wait, you weren’t asleep???????????”

“lol”

You put your phone back in your pocket, double-checking it was still on silent.

You dig through your lunch. Someone sits down across from you, and when you look up you near have a heart attack.

It’s Melody!

Your previous tour guide is engrossed in a conversation with another person who sits down with her.

“I told her that!” Melody says to her companion.

“Hi,” the other girl, a woman with long black hair, greets you. She then addresses Melody.

“She’s eight months pregnant, Melody. Of course she’s going to be acting crazy with all the hormones!”

“Even before she got knocked up she was a hassle,” Melody replies. “I hate old-fashioned people like her.”

You hide your face, eating as quickly and quietly as you can manage without choking.

“Still wearing a nose-ring is so freaking weird. Our ancestors were, like, forced to wear them for hundreds of years, which cow in their right mind gets one??”

Melody shakes her head. “Next she’ll be showing off a brand mark. I’d divorce her ass if I was her husband.”

The other woman shivers.

Both women inexplicably turn towards you.

“You wouldn’t be fine being branded like you were property, right??” Melody asks you.

“Of course not!” you reply, pitching up your voice.

“See!” She throws up her hands.

Melody then leaves the table, kissing the other woman.

“I’m off to get us coffee, you still want the same?” she asks her.

“Ehh, make it stronger today. Two shots instead of one,” her girlfriend replies.

Finally finished with your food, you abscond.

You travel back to the cafeteria. A white-haired man catches your eye and he approaches.

“Saffron?” he asks.

It takes you a second before you remember your alias.

“Yes, that’s me. I assume you’re Harris?”

He grunts.

“Follow me.”

‘Less friendly, this one,’ you say to yourself.

Harris’s demeanor is that of someone in his forties, but his face shows him barely younger than yourself. 

You walk with him upstairs. 

The area gets busier as the day progresses. More workers lifting crates of milk run past you, and the groups of tourists pay you little mind.

He shows you the door to the locker rooms.

“This leads to the milking area. You’re offered higher pay if you consent to put on a show for visitors, but it’s not a requirement. Our personal rooms for milking are down the hall to your left.”

He speaks like he’s reading off a script.

“Our breeding quarters are this way. Might as well show them to you.”

You’re shown a familiar area. The guards lining the corridors give you no problems as you enter fully-furnished rooms with beds, desks, chairs, television sets, and computers. You even see quite a few gaming consoles hooked up.

“This is where pregnant people are held. The biggest perk of the breeding program is the free living accommodations.”

“Are pregnant workers required to stay here?” you ask.

“Yep,” he drawls. “Unless there’s some exceptional circumstances they’re all cooped up in here for most days of the week. Family and friends can visit, but their health is monitored frequently.”

“They can’t go outside??” you gape.

He looks at you funnily.

“Who said that? They get weekends off. There’s also an outdoor garden right behind us.”

“And tennis court,” a pregnant mother pipes up, eavesdropping from her bed.

You both continue walking.

“Can I see the garden?” you ask.

“Maybe once you’re officially hired,” he replies.

You pout.

He leads you to the nearby breeding quarters, not lifting away any curtains. He shows you the plush empty rooms set up for couples to fuck.

“Lots of freaks like watching us breed, so all rooms in this area have a one-way glass wall. If you prefer not being observed you need to ask for a closed room,” he explains.

“Is there a bonus if you agree to being watched?” you asked.

“Well, damn. Maybe you are smarter than you look,” he replies.

You bristle at that and give him a glare.

“Do you hate the job?” you ask, taking a risk.

Harris stops in front of you.

“Every damn day,” he responds.

He leaves it at that and you have to rush to follow him as he continues forwards.

“Here are another set of bathrooms. The water fountain here is colder than anywhere else, so fill your water bottles here. There’s the janitor’s quarters. You’d better treat them well if not befriend some.”

Harris knocks and lets himself in.

There are janitors, many out of uniform, lounging around couches and tables less nicer than the ones you saw in the pregnant folks’ quarters. It’s the first time you’ve seen any non-bovine hybrids today, and it’s actually a pleasant surprise.

Out of your peripheral vision you watch a giraffe woman fumbling to put something into her breast pocket. You pretend not to notice. You definitely smell some weed.

Harris fist-bumps a few janitors before introducing you as a new recruit.

“Ooh, she’s a cute one,” a duck hybrid male on the couch says.

“Bakery, maybe?” a human woman assumes.

You hear the ding of a microwave and turn to see a man taking out a cup ramen with a pair of well-worn oven mitts.

“She might be a breeder,” Harris says.

That gets many people’s attention. You flush underneath their gazes.

“You’d make cute babies,” the marijuana woman smiles.

You force a smile.

“Apparently she produced milk within seconds of trying the machine,” Harris says.

You twirl a piece of your wig hair nervously.

“Woo! That’s amazing!” a man says.  
Some others offer their comments. You try not letting the attention get to you.

“Are you all paid well?” you ask, remembering your mission.

There’s a few glances at Harris before he snorts.

“I’m not gonna say ‘nothing,” he says.

Given the go-ahead to talk, a few employees answer you.

“Not as well as the other folks!”

“I’m making more than my last job, but I get fewer sick days!”

“They think they’re being progressive paying the cows the most, but what about us other folks?!”

You hold up a hand at the overlapping voices.

You listen to each person in turn and a few others approach to voice their concerns.

“She’s not HR, why are y’all even bothering?” a snake girl asks.

“I still care,” you say.

Harris rolls his eyes.

“We should get moving, see y’all later,” he says.

You accompany Harris out the door. You hear laughter as you walk away.

You’re shown the ladder to the roof and then peer out a window at the outside.

You spot crops of corn, berry bushes, tops of carrots, and fruit trees in a field. There’s a garden of flowers beyond that.

“Wow,” you sigh.

You wish you could take out your camera to capture the sight.

“Do you have gardeners?” you ask.

“Yeah, we have a few. No spots open, though.”

Harris ends the tour back at the main floor.

“If you wanna talk to the receptionist to let her know your decision to join or not, she’ll schedule an orientation day where you gotta take some classes before you’re sent into training. Payday is every Friday at midnight. If you’re not interested in being here you can leave.”

“All right, sounds good. Thank you,” you say.

Harris nods and leaves you.

Finally not shadowed by someone, you peer at the door to the waiting room. He left you there to meet with the receptionist, but what if you just keep exploring by yourself?

You can search to find somebody to interview!

You spin around and walk like you know where you’re going, slipping your lanyard in your shirt. You stride past workers and brush past a line of visitors with a smile.

You walk around until you find an area less crowded. There’s no guards around and you scan your surroundings.

The door beside you has a placard designating it as the laundry room.

‘Perfect!’ you cheer.

You recall you’d never been given back your dirty clothes—you can use that as an excuse to still be roaming around if you’re caught!

You enter the laundry room to find it empty save one person: a pregnant woman washing her clothes.

She smiles at you. You return it.

“Is this where I can find my laundry?” you ask.

“Are you new?” she asks. “Yep, there’s actually some clean clothes that haven’t been claimed yet from this morning.”

She steers you to a basket. On top of a pile of clothes is your skirt and underwear.

“There it is! Perfect, thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” she replies.

You grab your clothes.

“Is there a bathroom around here?” you ask.

“Just next door,” she informs you.

You wave farewell to her and head into the hallway. You push open the door to the next room.

You’re only a step into the room when you spot a group of naked men.

You’re in a shower room. A men’s shower room.

The room is steaming and humid. The air is clouded from the steam and the door shuts behind you.

You turn back quickly and try the door handle when you grasp nothing. In a panic you attempt to find it.

“Wrong room?” a man laughs.

You hear the sounds of water splashing.

You keep trying to find the door handle.

“I’m so sorry!” you yell, mortified.

There’s a few chuckles.

A wet hand grips your arm and you cringe. You’re dragged sideways before a man opens the door for you and holds it open.

“The bathroom’s the other way,” he says.

You sputter out your thanks and hurry outside.

You stumble to the bathroom two doors down and fall on the toilet.

There were so many dicks!!! So!! Many!! Dicks!!!!!!!!!!!  
You finish your business and decide to just go home. You’d obtained a mountain of evidence and some worker testimonies, and the worst-case scenario was asking Historia for a few of her colleagues to interview.

You’re back into the hallway and heading to the front when you overhear Melody’s voice. Internally groaning, you duck inside the closest room.

The room is hot and steamy.

It’s the men’s showers!! Again!!

They just seem bemused by your second entrance. Some don’t even look up.

“You forgot something,” one of the men says.

He points near the door.

Your wig had fallen off. You reach towards your head to feel the lack of it.

Your soul crumples into a ball. You bend down to grab it when your skirt rips.

“................................................................................”

You flash every man there your underwear before you stand back up, put your wig on, grab the door handle, and leave again.

And you’re face to face with Harris in the hallway.

“Well, I’ll be,” Harris drawls. “Missed me?”

You wish the gods would stop laughing at you already.

You point at the skirt in your arms. Harris blinks.

“I needed my skirt back. It was dirty. I’ll be leaving now.”

Your voice is clipped and you nudge him out of the way to leave.

He calls behind you.

“Your legs?”

You stop in your tracks and observe where your skirt ripped. You hadn’t bothered to obscure the area around your crotch, and the pattern there was very obviously non-bovine.

You break out in a sprint.

You’re to the receptionist’s office when you take a breath.

“I’m sorry, thank you for the opportunity, but I won’t be taking this position,” you inform her.

You must look like a crazy person, but she seems nonplussed.

“Okay, dear. Have a nice day,” she smiles.

You walk outside. No alarm sounds after you exit, no guards block your way, and you’re home-free.

Well, almost.

You scan the parking lot with your car.

“Saffron!” A voice calls you.

It’s Felix.

You’re too mentally exhausted to wave at him when he waves back.

“Are you alright? Did anyone accost you?” he asks.

“No, I just stumbled into the men’s room.” You tell the truth.

“Oh.”

He looks down at the ground.

“Did you… take the position?” he asks.

You don’t answer.

Your silence is a reply to him. He sighs.

“That’s too bad. We were lucky to find you,” he says.

He kicks a stone with his foot and peers back up at you.  
“And, between you and me, you were really hot on the milking machine. A real pro,” he smiles.

You can’t help but smile back.

“Little missy.”

Harris’ voice is behind you.

When you turn, his arms are crossed. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head at you.

“I have my right to remain silent,” you tell him.

He quirks an eyebrow.

“Hi, Harris,” Felix greets him.

“Hey, kid,” he greets back.

He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you.

“She’s not a cow,” he says.

You stiffen. Felix steps into your view.

“Huh??” he says.

“Look at her legs,” Harris informs him. “She’s wearing some paint to pretend to be one of us.”

You’re busted.

The prison sentence looms over your head. Your life flashes in front of your eyes.

Felix spots your markings and his face changes.

You fall to your knees with a wail.

“I’ll do anything!” you plead.

Harris looks at Felix.

“Lookie, you didn’t have to pretend to be a cow if all you wanted was to become a janitor,” he says.

You freeze and look up. He continues speaking.

“We’re always hiring janitors. There’s no need to dress up and fool anyone.”

You nod after the cogs in your head click together.

‘Ah,” you think. ‘I can roll with that.’

“It’s true,” you lie. “I thought that they’d only consider me if I was a cow.”

Felix and Harris wear matching expressions; they appear to feel sorry for you.

“Shame... and you’re such a good milker…” Felix mutters.

“You’re some kind of elk? Maybe a horse?” Harris asks, rubbing his stubbly chin.

Felix extends an arm to help pull you up.

“Still, should we alert the police?” he asks Harris.

Harris considers it.

“I have money,” you declare. “I’ll pay you off.”

Felix still looks unsure.

“Nah, I’m good on cash Harris says.

He thinks for a good minute before a spark hits him.

“What about mutual blackmail?” he suggests.

“Blackmail??!” you repeat.

Harris shushes you. “Not so loud! Here, come with me.”

You hesitantly follow Harris as he brings you back into the building. You nearly turn to book it when you see Felix joining you at the rear.

Harris approaches the receptionist.

“Saffron said she’s willing to reconsider. She just had a bad first impression,” he explains.

The receptionist eyes you over. You nod as naturally as any hostage could manage.

“Are you sure?” she asks you, sensing something’s up.

You bite your lip.

“I was just… overwhelmed,” you say, omitting the full truth. “I had a few.. bad remarks made towards me, and felt self-conscious of myself.”

The receptionist’s eyes harden.

“Who made those remarks? What did they say? What are their names?”

Words refuse to emerge from your mouth, and she clicks her pen.

“If you see them again, please demand their employee cards and inform me of who they are. I’ll call some guards to accompany you—”

“No worries, that’s why I’m back,” Felix pipes up.

He approaches the woman and whispers loud enough for you to hear. 

“I was her guide the first half of the day— Harris being her second guide. Thus, when she approached us I knew we had to come help. I believe she trusts us to point out those who insulted her. Please let me and Harris find out who they are.”

The receptionist considers it, looking to Harris and you for confirmation. Harris’ expression seems genuine, and yours passes her test as well because she agrees.

“Don’t stay too long, Felix. I know you enjoy working overtime, but please go home soon,” she says.

“I’ll be home before nightfall, I promise.”

He salutes her.

Harris brings you both far inside to an area scant of wandering visitors, guards, and even other workers. If it weren’t for the heavy smell of cleaning supplies that assaulted your nose you’d think this place was abandoned.

“In here,” he grunts, opening up a small room. The three of you pack inside.

“What’s this place?” Felix asks.  
“Spare testing room.” Harris locks the door.

“What do you want?” you ask him.

“Sit down.”

He brings you a chair.

“You need assurance we won’t talk, and we need a good reason not to bust you,” he begins.

“Harris?” Felix interjects. “Is this really a good idea?”

“Of course not,” Harris laughs. “Better of an idea than sneaking into here disguised as a cow, I’d presume, though..”

Felix reads your expression. You’re not managing to hide the slithering feeling of dread crawling through your body.

“Harris…” he warns.

Harris goes further into the room where there’s a tarp covering something large. He pulls it away to reveal a complicated piece of heavy machinery. The breast pump cups signify it as a milking machine, but otherwise t’s so ancient that you’d believe it to be a torture device. Leather straps and velvet strands of rope hang beside it.

“What about milking her? Just for a bit?” Harris asks.

“Harris!” Felix yells.

You swallow.

“I’ll do whatever,” you say, brushing off your skirt. “I’ll make a deal.”

“How about this: you make enough for both of us to get a gulp?” Harris bargains. “We won’t touch you if you don’t desire, and afterwards you’re free to go.”

“What?!?” Felix exclaims.

“I’ll do it,” you reply.

“Don’t agree so easily…” Felix chastises you.

“My first condition: no recording me,” you warn. “Both of you turn off your phones right now.”

“Sure thing,” Harris says.

You watch as he shuts off his cellphone and it powers down. Felix shows you his phone is already off.

“Make it two swallow-fulls and I’ll give you the passcode to the back entrance,” Harris suggests.

“Deal,” you reply.

“This is insane... “ Felix mutters.

“My other condition is that I need video proof of you both.”

You hold up your phone and press the record button.

“Are you serious?” Felix asks.

“If you fuck me over I need to know I can retaliate back. So, say you’re both forcing me to give you milk in exchange for not revealing I lied to get an interview here.”

Harris raises a hand up.

“My name is Harris, and this is Felix, and we’re threatening Saffron by coercing her into letting us drink her milk,” he states.

Felix hides his face. You grab his hands and force his face into the picture.

“If she complies, we promised not to turn her over for pretending to be a cow to get hired,” Harris finishes.

“Good enough.” You pocket your phone.

You also had a backup of the audio from the recorder in your bra. Not that you thought either of these two were stupid enough to rat you out, but you weren’t oblivious to the possibility.

You sit down onto the machine. It’s way less plush than the last one you’d tried, and you kick away the alarming leg-holsters.

“I can’t guarantee you’ll get even half a glass full,” you state.

“Enough for both of us to taste is plenty,” Harris replies.  
Harris holds his finger over the machine.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

You’re already showing them your back when you strip off your shirt and bra. You attach the pumps to your breasts, but they refuse to stay on.

“How do these work?” you ask.

“Don’t ask me, Felix is the expert,” Harris shrugs.

Felix is facing the corner. 

“Hold them up until the pump gets some suction,” he grits out.

Harris sets the machine on and you follow his advice. After a few pumps the machine successfully grabs onto your breasts, and you relax your arms.

The pull is clumsier but still stirs your gut. Harris leaves to snag two cups.

You and Felix are silent. The machine’s beeps seem to grow louder and you ask if that’s a problem.

“Sounds like it’s low on battery power,” Felix answers. “I can.. plug it in.”

He refuses to glance at you as he slides against the wall and locates the power strip. His butt shakes as he kneels to find its accompanying plug. He manages to connect them and gets back up, his eyes glimpsing your bare chest.

You’re too worn out to feel embarrassed when he stares at you. He goes back to the corner with a pink tinge to his neck. Harris returns and places the two cups underneath the product nozzle.

The machine does its job on your teats, and you twiddle your thumbs and wait. A minute passes. Two minutes pass.

At the five minute mark you feel your breasts getting tender from the pumping.

“It’s not working?” you ask.

Felix is nervous to look back but he manages to reply.

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

The light suction hasn’t transformed into pain thus far, and you say so.

“I’ll increase it a bit,” Harris says.

He turns a wheel up a notch. Immediately the suction becomes more forceful, and you steel yourself.

You expect a feeling of liquid rushing from inside you to tingles upon your nipples as milk drips out. You wait a few minutes more.

It’s about to verge into something less pleasurable and more awkward when Harris stops the machine. The pumps unlatch from your tits with a pop.

“Felix,” Harris calls.

Felix twitches.

“Well, guess we tried,” he mumbles. “Let’s let her go now.”

Harris sighs.

“Guess I’ll have to massage her chest,” he grumbles.

Felix’s head snaps to him.

“Absolutely not!” he growls. “You know nothing about getting milking personnel ready.”

Harris fakes walking towards you with his hands outstretched obscenely. Felix cuts him off and sits with you.

You present him your front. He apologizes but kneads your breasts with a practiced hand. They’re sensitive and you bite back a cry. His calloused fingers massage your breast tissue and thumb your nipples.

You writhe in his grip. Your arm comes to clench around his arm when he pinches a nipple of yours and you moan. His hands still.

“I, I think that will help,” he gulps.

The pumps are placed on your breasts and you miss the feeling of his hands on you immensely. Harris turns the machine back on and you grab Felix’s arm again when he goes to stand.

“In case I need your help again,” you explain with a blush.

He’s unsure but you tug him down.

The light pressure on your breasts continues as the pump attempts to milk you. Felix’s eyes follow the curves of your chest appreciatively.

He’s quite a cute guy and you enjoy his presence. Harris isn’t too bad looking either, and in any other scenario you’d be out of your mind right now.

Your cunt is wet; yes, but not dripping down like it had been before. You figure that maybe the mood is wrong. 

Your eyes scan the machine for the dildo extension.

“What’s up?” Felix asks.

“Where’s the fucking apparatus?” you question.

Harris and Felix seem to realize the absence of it as well.

“It might not have one,” Harris replies. “In the old days the farmers would just perform that task by hand…”

You groan.

“That’s just great... “ Felix sighs.

“Hey, if you need penetration I’d be happy to oblige,” he winks. “Maybe that’d set you off.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Felix says.

“You already broke the no-touching part,” Harris replies.

It dawns on him with horror that he’s right.

“What do you say?” Harris asks you.

“Let me see your dick first,” you say.

Harris unbuttons his pants. There’s a visible bulge underneath his boxers, and he drops them to reveal a fairly-regular sized penis that stands at half-mast. He’s uncircumcised and the head is hiding underneath his foreskin.

“Need to see it fully hard?” he asks.

You shake your head. You’d taken dildos thicker than that.

“It’ll fit.”

“What position?” he questions.

You lay down.

You’d never say it, but you were a virgin. You’re not sure what you’re going to tell Eve when you arrive back.

Harris comes over to kneel at your feet. He strokes himself to hardness and his cock thickens and lengthens as the cockhead pokes out. His fully-erect dick dangles down, red and throbbing.

The sight excites your cunt but makes you waver.

“I’ll need to get myself a bit wetter,” you say.

“Take your time,” he says.

You get naked and slip your fingers into your slit. It’s lubricated enough not to burn, but the stretch takes a bit. You rub your clitoris in circles to balance it out.

The blood rushes to your clit and it emerges from its hood. Your fingers stroking it light your cunt’s nerve endings up.

The machine is turned off by someone but you’re too enthralled in coaxing your fingers further inside of you to watch.

Satisfied, you open your cunt and look to Harris. Felix, to your astonishment, is on top of him. 

You hadn’t been the only one wanting some foreplay, apparently. Harris’ fingers were in Felix’s pants and Felix was twitching from his clit being massaged as well.

Felix’s eyes are screwed shut in pleasure. Harris gives you a smirk as he slides Felix’s pants down to reveal a sopping wet shaved cunt and his fingers continue to torture his most sensitive spot.

“He seemed to be wanting some help,” he drawls.

It was insanely hot and made your fingers rub faster.  
“I’ll lube myself up quick,” Harris says.

He sheathes himself inside Felix’s cunt in a quick motion. All three of you gasp.

“Harris!?” Felix shouts.

“Mmm... you’re nice and tight, kid,” Harris moans.

“I’m older than you, stop calling me a kid,” Felix sighs. “And, you’re lucky I’m used to your size.”

Harris thrusts in response and Felix’s legs shudder.

“Fuck off,” he responds.

Harris pulls his dick out and crawls to you.

“Ready now?” he asks.

The five fingers plunging into your cunt tell you “yes.” You present your hole to him a second time.

He pushes inside. He’s observant of your expression and stops multiple times when you need a moment to adjust.

“First time?” he asks.

“No,” you lie. “It’s just been a while.”

He hums.

Felix takes to massaging your breasts as you’re fucked by Harris. Your pussy loves the double stimulation and the feeling of a man thrusting into you is delicious. Your daydreams of being fucked every which way by unknown men gave you an idea of what it could feel like, but the heat of it is an aspect you hadn’t considered.

Neither was the fact that a curved dick could shape your hole to its liking. You whine as his cock scrapes your insides and hits your womb. Your legs come around his waist and he flips you onto your side, lifting up a leg of yours to reach deeper. The new positioning has him barraging your g-spot and you convulse in pleasure and beg him to take you harder.

You’re approaching the plateau and about to fly over into orgasm territory when a tongue laps at your breasts. Felix is on the ground with his breasts in his hands licking at your nipples.

You shift your chest closer to his mouth and he takes the chance to envelop your breast in his mouth. He sucks hard; the hot, wet heat of his mouth suckling around your sensitive nipples trigger you to cum.

Hot milk drips into Felix’s mouth while your pussy squirts girl cum all over. Felix’s eyes go wide and he laps to your breasts with more gusto.

“It’s delicious!” he whimpers, detaching himself for a moment before swooping back in to mouth your tit.

“Hell yeah,” Harris replies.

You’re shifted to sitting up and taken off his dick. Felix glares at Harris for taking you away but Harris offers his member and he greedily accepts it, taking your place.

You’re confused as they begin fucking.

Your cunt aches and your tits are leaking.

Felix bounces on Harris’ dick with ease, barely breaking a sweat as he grinds down and takes his pleasure with no input from the man attached to the dick. He reaches for you and you come closer. 

Each man attaches their mouths to your breasts and begins to suck.

The twin sensations of a rough tongue lapping up your milk while a kinder mouth suckles pulls a groan from you. You lactate more, but your pussy aches for some attention.

Harris swaps his penis from wrecking Felix’s cunt to yours after a minute, and Felix then focuses solely on milking you dry. 

His technique is incredible as he shifts from long tongue strokes to using his hands to massage your breasts from base to tip. He squeezes your tits until they’re near gushing into his mouth. He swallows it all and continues his overwhelming kneading.

Harris gladly pounds his dick harder into your wet cunt. His technique on you is sloppy but the occasional teeth that graze against your nipples more than make up for it.

Felix takes one last gulp of milk before he moves back from his breasts.

“Thank you, Saffron,” he smiles.

You can only give him a mewl in response.

Harris grabs your ass to fuck up into you. You try and hold back the wave of an orgasm crashing against you.

Felix wets his fingers in his cunt before rubbing your clit in hard, punishing circles that bring you over the edge before you’re ready.

Your toes curl as another orgasm rips through your body. You shake from head to toe and choke back a scream.

Harris pulls out and Felix ducks down to tongue at your clit and cunt. You squeeze your thighs around his head and he overstimulates you for thirty seconds of blissful, painful pleasure before you give up and tap out, pushing him back.

You’re sweaty and twitching as you catch your breath.

“You okay?” Harris asks.

“I need a minute,” you say.

Felix and Harris copulate like rabbits next to you. Harris slaps his ass and you see Felix’s hole clench around his shiny, wet cock.

“Gonna come?” Felix asks.

“Probably soon,” Harris answers. “Where do you want it?”

“Anywhere but inside me,” you say.

“Hey, I thought you signed up for the breeding program,” Harris teases you.

Felix tells him that he’s on the pill, and so Harris thrusts fully into his cunt and unleashes himself. 

Harris’ face cracks into a rare smile as he shudders. His cock pulses with a mind of its own as it empties his balls inside Felix’s warmth. You witness the cum leak from Felix’s pussy.

Felix stands up and throws Harris’ pants at his face.

“Well, that was fun,” he says.

“Did you not come?” you ask.

“I have a vibe in my car, I’ll just do it in a few minutes,” he responds.

You don’t think that’s fair at all. 

You stand up and bend down to grope his breasts. He squeaks.

You throw up his shirt to attach yourself to one of his nipples.

“Saffron—”

He’s cut off when Harris’ fingers thrust into his cunt and you suck on his breast.

He doesn’t object to you both kissing and rubbing the most sensitive parts of his body, but he does flush deeper than you’ve seen before as he watches you try and milk his tits. You bat your eyes up at him like a doe while sucking hard.

“I feel weird,” he says. “I…”

You’re delighted when you’re treated with milk from his breasts; it’s creamy and rich. He relaxes like putty into your hands from the lessening pressure in his tits.

Harris fingers curl into him with a purpose, driving him to the edge. By now his hands are dripping with the slick of both of you.

“I’m gonna cum!” he yells. “Don’t stop! Please, please!!”

You move your mouth to his other breast to even the attention given. He squirts milk in short bursts as the fingers in his pussy brush his g-spot in a steady rhythm. You rub your own fingers against his small dick-like clitoris and even can rub it like a larger one.

You both drive him wild with the triple stimulation and he pants out more pleas to continue. He climaxes and grabs the hair at the back of your head to bring you closer as you suck a stream of milk from his tits. You drink like you were his child.

Harris yawns and dresses himself to leave first.

“Passcode to the back entrance is 9372. I’ll tell the front desk if they ask that you stayed the night and left tomorrow morning. It’s a different girl’s shift tomorrow,” he says. “Thanks for the drink.”

You wave and he takes his exit.

“He’s such a dick,” Felix says.  
“Tell me something I don’t know,” you respond.

Felix recovers and helps to get you presentable.

“Neither of us will tell anyone,” he assures you. “I’ve worked with him for years and he keeps his secrets. He probably has dirt on half of us at this point.”

You’re both dressed and somewhat cleaned off when he brings you to the hallway nearby the janitors’ rooms.

“The cameras shouldn’t have seen us yet but there’s a live feed trained on every entrance and exit,” he says.

He shows you the camera hidden in the corner of the ceiling.

“I’ll grab some coffee to take the guards’ attention away for a few seconds. Stand near the door and wait for my signal before you book it,” he says.

“What’s your signal?” you ask.

He steps into a break room to heat up a pot, leaving you alone.

Now in the homestretch you’re sweating. Your disguise is back into place but you want to avoid raising every potential red flag.

Felix thankfully emerges after a minute.

“I’ll laugh, and that’ll be your cue to go.”

He turns before grabbing the door handle to look back at you.

“It was nice meeting you,” he smiles.

You smile back.

And when you hear him laugh, you run.

As a deer, you’re speedy and nimble. Your legs were made to cross leaps and bounds and you fly to the door and input the passcode. The panel buzzes green and you’re out the door.

Eve and Historia are at your house when you come home.

“You’re alive,” Historia remarks.

“You’re here two hours later than when you said you’d be back!” Eve says.

“I only gave you an estimate when I’d be back,” you reply.

“You didn’t contact us after lunchtime,” she pesters.

You give her a hug and she wraps your arms around you.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she says.

You enjoy being held when you feel her sniff you.

“Why do you smell like sex?”

You’re not going to say anything... for now. She'll get desperate later and begs you for details. For now, you smirk and lie to her face.

“I had to visit the breeding rooms.”

Eve is skeptical but sits down with you to listen to your story. That’s when you finally remember to turn off your tape recorder.

It was all over.


End file.
